


ornaments

by warmth



Series: christmas [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas fic, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:17:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmth/pseuds/warmth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale, age eleven, is forced to go to an ornament decoration, where he meets an annoying kid named Stiles Stilinski.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ornaments

Derek crossed his arms, looking at the little kids running around his feet with a mild disgust. 

His mother was chatting with another mom and he was stuck here, decorating ornaments with a bunch of mouth dribblers. He sighed, stripping himself of the hand-me-down leather jacket that used to be his older brother’s, draping it over his chair and sitting carefully, rigidly, at the edge of the seat. The dark haired boy grabbed for one of the small, plastic balls that were strewn across the construction paper covered table, rolling it around in his hands as though testing its weight. Resigned, he looked down the length of the table. 

“Where’s all the—“ He broke off, looking down at the kid sitting beside him. He looked no older than six or seven, with unruly brown hair and big, innocent eyes. He was dipping his hand in the glue, smiling a wide, toothy grin. Derek scowled, tilting his head and trying to remember what his mom said about dealing with the younger kids.

“Hey…” Helplessly, he moved his hand around the kid’s shoulder, who paid no attention to him, wondering if he could tap him without setting off creeper-alarms; one of the mom’s was looking at him with a sharp gaze. He gave her wide eyes before reaching out and poking him in the shoulder gingerly. 

“Hi!” Derek could see that he had a gap between his teeth; the front one must have recently fell out.

“Hi. Do you think I could…” He gestured to the glue. The boy looked at him, confused, a string of the sticky substance dripping down onto the paper plate. “Are you even decorating anything?” Traces of incredulity slipped into his voice. He realized he probably shouldn’t find this so odd, he was dealing with a six year old, but random messes had always rubbed him the wrong way. 

“Yes!” The boy said indignantly, frowning, his lower lip gutting out in a pout. He pointed at the glittery sphere laying, untouched, to his left. “See?”

Derek gave the globe a wary look, taking in the strips of misshapen glitter and a thick coating of glue. He sighed, grabbing another ball, taking a paper towel and rubbing it over his glue-covered hand before planting the bare ornament in his hand and curling his small fingers around it.

“Ugh, here. I’ll show you how.” He dipped one of the paintbrushes scattered around into the glue, brushing it over the sphere. The boy watched in fascination. 

“What’s your name anyway?” Derek asked absently, brushing carefully over the outside.  The boy tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing as though he were deep in thought. He snorted. This kid didn’t know his own name?

“Jah… Gen…” The boy huffed in frustration, crossing his arms, “Stiles. My name is Stiles.” 

“Stiles. Huh.” He grinned, “That’s… weird. Cool, but weird.”

Stiles glowered at him, sweeping his disorderly hair out of his eyes. “It is not!”

“Hey! Calm down! I was just stating a fact, jeez. Now, here, take this, no—no! Not like that!” Derek rearranged the boys hands on the globe so that the glue barely touched his skin. “What do you want on it? Gli—“

“Glitter!” 

“I was going to say that!” 

“Were you?” 

They glared at each other, hands twined together beneath the ornament, which was balanced precariously over their fingers. Stiles cracked a smile, hand darting out to grab the ornament, shoving it into the pile of bright red glitter. Derek watched him, unimpressed, his shoulders slumping. 

A woman smiled with a fake sort of kindness, replacing the red glitter with a fresh plate, the herpes of craft supplies almost leaking off the paper.

“Stiles!” He called, throwing his hands out, but the boy had already dropped the ball again, sending the newly replenished glitter flying all over his dark shirt. He looked down at it, arms flailing out, mouth gaping. “ _Stiles.”_ He growled, crossing his arms and only managing to spread the red substance over his skinny arms. The other boy stared at him, eyes blown wide, for only a moment, before he burst out laughing, the sound filling ever corner of the small room. His mother and the woman standing beside her whipped around only to find Derek glowering at the small boy, looming over him as he clutched at his sides, falling out of his plastic chair. 

“Shut. Up.” He scowled, rubbing at the shirt with a paper napkin. Stiles resurfaced suddenly, shooting up. 

“No! Not like _that!_ ” Stiles rolled his eyes and grabbed the napkin, swiping it across his chest and down, brushing the heaviest of the glitter that wasn’t clinging to the floor in a shimmering puddle at his feet. He watched him curiously. 

“Do you get glitter on yourself a lot?” He looked bashful. How cute.

Strange that he actually found this little kid with crazy dark hair and bright eyes adorable when he flinched away from anyone younger than the fifth grade that wasn’t in his family. 

“Not really.” Stiles shrugged, grinning as he reached up on his tiptoes to swipe at Derek’s nose. He saw his mom approaching out of the corner of his eye, saw his sister sprinting alongside her, heard them call his name and the woman his mom was talking to yell something as well, a name that would’ve twisted his tongue in half. The kids beside him were giggling and Stiles still looked like he wanted to laugh. Derek noticed that he was wearing a reindeer sweater, one that looked hand sewn. He smiled, letting Stiles know it was okay and the boy immediately burst out laughing around the words he was trying to get out.

“Not really at all.”

His mother tugged at his arm, but he reached out for the ornament, planting it into Stiles’ tiny hand. He looked up at him in a mix of wonder and excitement and energy. 

Derek smiled.

*


End file.
